Join Linda’s Lounging Lizard Lazy Club; Sign Up Today

Dear Folks,

I once told a neighbor that my hobby was laziness, but I was always too busy for it. By the time she got through laughing and wiping her eyes she was in no mood to listen to my explanation. The explanation being that I had too many responsibilities.

There were always things that HAD to get done. And they had to get done by me because there was no one else to do them. You know — jobs like housekeeper, mother, chauffeur, later as caregiver, not to mention the paying jobs over the years. I never made a career of just one. I have a very low threshold of BORED. Doing the same things over and over again day after day after endless day is depressing and makes me stupid. It kills more brain cells than hard liquor. Yet whatever job I undertake, I work hard at it, be it ever so humble.

But there has always been this little lizard lying back in my subconscious that has yearned to be free. Free to lie in the warm sand, or on the soft grass, curled up with a really good book or word puzzle. Maybe even a new notebook with creamy pages and empty lines beckoning to be filled. I’ve even dreamed of writing the Great American Novel.

But . . . I’m lazy. I start out gung-ho, but after several pages and too many hurdles I’m ready for a nap. It’s hard enough to live my own life, much less make up nonexistent but real people with nonexistent but real problems and coming up with nonexistent but real solutions. That’s fiction in a nutshell.

So you see. The blog’s my thing. I get an urge to write — call it my Muse, my imagination, or too many cups of coffee — it’s short and sweet and satisfying.

I’ve tried collecting all the equipment for being lazy. Oh, yes. Make no mistake. Every hobby must have its equipment, be we male or female hobbyists. There’s always the trip to the store to purchase something. For those of us who are REALLY lazy, we may now shop online. But even before computers there were catalogs.

I once bought a hammock which Mike strung up between two trees in our little copse of hardwoods out front. Lots of shade. Peace and quiet. But that plan didn’t work. By the time I had lugged my pillows, soft throw, books and snack to my shady idyll, somebody would inevitably spot me and think, “Oh, that poor — lady, mother, neighbor, etc — she is alone and needs company.” Orrrr. “I need something and Linda is NOT DOING ANYTHING. How fortunate for me.” We wound up having to move the hammock around to the side of the house where I never really used it anymore. It finally just rotted and crumbled, like my lazy plans.

Now, after all these years, I have leisure to implement my lazy lifestyle. Not as many demands and when there are, I sometimes get up to answer them — sometimes I don’t. Oh, I still keep my house reasonably clean and take out the garbage. But if I’m watching a movie or I’m in a really tense chapter in a really good book, or just looking out the window, I don’t get up to take stuff to the garbage. I just ball it up and toss it toward the sink. I’m really good at it and hardly ever miss. Then when I HAVE to get up, I transfer said junk to the garbage. I have all kinds of cool ways to save energy. I should write a book.

But the laziest story I ever heard was one I read about on NPR this morning. See. There was this Navy officer [true story] who was so lazy. . .  (Drum roll). How lazy was he? He was so lazy that instead of moving his seat in his wardroom when the sun got in his eyes, he ordered the ship to change course. My hero. And oh, to have that much power.

So what do you have to do to join Linda’s Lazy Lounging Lizard Club? THAT’S the beauty of it. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just think it, and it’s done. Tell your lazy friends about it. But don’t go to any trouble. NOTE: I was going to call it Linda’s Lazy Lounge Lizard Club, but then Mike told me what a lounge lizard is, so I changed the name pretty darn fast.

Now, here’s a little ditty I wrote years ago about how living in the Deep South makes you lazy — people and animals alike. Enjoy.

Southern Discomfort – by Linda McDaniel Smith

Cats drip from deck rails;
Dogs splatter porches, felled by Fahrenheit.
Azaleas cast narcotic nets, holding senses hostage.
Bees droooooooone . . .
Flies buzzzzzzzzzzz . . .
Eyes glaaaazzzzzze . . .
and . . . ummmm . . . . . . .
Wha? Oh, yeah . . .
Summer sizzles.
Summer slays.
Summer puts you in a daze
In the South.

Bye now. Y’all come back now, ya heer.

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “Join Linda’s Lounging Lizard Lazy Club; Sign Up Today

  1. You have a great talent for writing. I like to write but I can’t write fiction too well because it seems like I am lieing ( how do you spell that ,even spell checker doesn’t know) So I write about growing up in the south. Alabama in the 40’s and 50’s. Or I used to, I think I have said all I have to say. I do better when I am in a writing class but not many around here. I do not like hammocks because I am always afraid a worm will drop on me. I am a member of your club but I do work at selling items on e-bay but that is all. My house looks like an Arkansas tornado went through it. I lived in Ark so for a month or two in a house trailer still on its wheels. When I heard it called tornado alley I was anxious to move! My husband was in construction and we moved around a lot and lived in every thing but a tent.
    Can I be president of the club?
    Jane

    • Dear President Jane, it would be the honor of our now two-member club, to elect you president. All you have to do is be lazier than your fellow members.

      I love Old South stories. That’s how I grew up. Born late 40s, grew up throughout the fabulous fifties.

      Good word image of your house. You’ve got the talent. Now all you have to do is lie back in a worm-free environment and let your mind wander into other worlds. Or the same world, just with different people. Stories. Okay. Fiction. ORRR, you might just want to write about yourself and your memories of growing up. That sells, too.

      Oh, by the way. May I post this? I know it’s on “comments”. Some people read them.

      Anyway. You go, Girl.

  2. Melissa has the same problem with being unable to sit still, but I think hers is congenital. Her mother cannot sit still or allow someone else to sit still, which she inherited from HER mother. When Melissa was searching for an apartment early in our dating period, we kept seeing apartments with little sunny areas and speculated that she could sit there and read. Of course, once she got an apartment, she never sat down to read!

    Neither I, nor her uncle, have such a malady. We can sit all day if we have to. We prefer there to be some scotch or whiskey to sip, with the bottle within reach, while doing so, but it’s not required.

    • Dave, thanks for that response. I was hyper by DNA and necessity, but longed to lounge in sunlit nooks. In my youth and early teens when I had more leisure — which I took by disappearing into the woods where no one could find me — I would climb a big tree and read. I longed for adulthood where I could be my own boss and nobody could tell me what to do. Oh, if kids only knew. Down deep, I’m lazy to be bone, and have begun to actually exercise that option. So hats off to our two newest members of the Lounging Lizard Lazy Club. You and your uncle-in-law. Tell him we’ll make him an honorary member. You can be our social secretary and you and uncle can toast to our success — without expending any effort whatsoever.

  3. Ohhh! What a fun post! I want to join your club, too. The nucleus of my laziness is procrastination. It was always a struggle when I was working in NYC, but,…I’M RETIRED!!! I can get away with it now. 🙂

    I like to write, too, and I’ve often thought of using my life as the outline then writing a roman-à-clef — a novel that represents real events and characters under the guise of fiction — but I’m too afraid people might recognize themselves and I’d have to find a new place to live. Of course, a pseudonym might solve that problem. After all, the experts say, “Write what you know.” I’ve written fanfiction that has been well received, but never managed to get beyond that.

    Have you ever taken a creative writing course? I would love to do that.

Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s